part of your world
by Cora Clavia
Summary: It all starts with an essay. AU, Sam/Jack.
1. Chapter 1

As they walk in the main entrance, Jack feels Charlie reach for his hand. The aquarium is his favorite place in the world, but he's feeling a little shy today, and Jack doesn't blame him.

Instead of the regular ticket counter, Jack and Charlie walk to the guest services desk. The man sitting behind it looks up from his computer. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Jack O'Neill, and this is my son, Charlie."

"Oh, the O'Neill family! Hi, I'm Walter. I'll take you guys inside."

Jack and his son follow Walter through the doors into the vast, empty lobby, sunlight streaming through the skylights. It's usually teeming with families, but the museum doesn't open until the afternoon today, and they're the only ones here.

Walter checks his phone. "Your guide will meet you here in a minute, okay? Enjoy."

Jack has no idea what to expect. The original invitation came from the museum's education director, an affable older man named George Hammond who seemed like a born grandfather. The aquarium's local school essay contest was his brainchild, and it's been running for a few years. Charlie loves science; he spent a month working on his essay, and when the Hammond had called the O'Neill home to tell them that Charlie had won, the boy had been elated.

But the person walking towards them doesn't seem to be Hammond. He doesn't think so, anyway. Not from the voice on the phone. The person walking through the oceanography displays is young, blonde, and female.

And distractingly pretty.

"Hi. I'm Sam." She immediately fixes on Charlie. "So you must be the guy who wrote that essay, huh?"

"You read it?"

"Of course I did." She crouches down to his level to shake his hand. "That's why I volunteered to be your tour guide today."

Charlie's eyes are wide. "Cool."

She straightens, looking up at Jack. "So – you must be Mr. O'Neill?"

"Jack, please."

"Jack. Hi." She shakes his hand. Her grip is firm, her palm warm and smooth. "Let's get going, okay? If we're lucky, we can see everything. Even the otters."

Charlie's eyes go wide. "I love otters."

"So do I."

* * *

She walks them past the sea lions, where one of the staff is already in the enclosure.

"Hi, Daniel." Sam leans on the railing, nodding to a young man with floppy brown hair who's shoveling fish into a bucket. "We've got visitors. This is Charlie and his dad."

"Hey, guys." The young man waves. "Charlie, you want to help me feed them?"

Charlie's eyes go wide. "Dad? Can I?"

"If he says so, sure. Be careful, bud."

As Daniel helps Charlie over the barrier and walks with him towards the edge of the enclosure, Jack turns to Sam. "Thank you."

She looks at him questioningly, and Jack shrugs. "He's been talking about this tour for weeks."

"Good. He's a nice kid." She smiles fondly as they watch Daniel hand him a fish, and Charlie promptly drops it. "Does he have any brothers and sisters?"

Jack shook his head. "Nope. Ever since his mom left, it's just been the two of us."

"That must be tough."

"Sometimes. But, like you said. He's a good kid."

She nudges his shoulder with hers. "I have a feeling he's got a pretty great dad, too."

He looks down to find her eyes fixed on his, so close, and the sudden, unexpected rush of attraction takes his breath away.

Splashing from the tank breaks the mood, and Jack looks to find Charlie laughing as Daniel tosses a fish high up in the air and one of the sea lions catches it.

* * *

Charlie gapes at the moray eels and vivid tropical fish with wide eyes, and they find the otters splashing and squeaking happily around their tank.

"Charlie keeps asking me to get him a pet otter," Jack explains.

"Oh, really?" Sam turns to Charlie.

"I'd rather have five," the boy explains. "But I told Dad we can start with one."

"Why five?"

"Because I like them," Charlie says, as if it's obvious. "I want a bunch of them."

Sam looks up at Jack and shrugs. "He's got a point. If you've got one, why not just get four more?"

"See, Dad? She says it's fine."

Jack groans. "You're not helping, you know that?"

Sam just arches an eyebrow at him, smiling impishly, and the look stops him short. She has a winsome, charming smile. It hits him square in the chest, and he can't remember the last time he so enjoyed a woman teasing him.

* * *

As it turns out, Sam's area of specialty is tropical marine life. She takes them into a brand-new exhibit that's not open yet, showing them the series of models depicting the vast ecosystem of Brazilian tributaries that spill into the Atlantic Ocean.

"Wow." Charlie looks around wide-eyed. "Wait, is that you?"

He points to a photo in one display, and Sam laughs. "Yeah, that's me. I was on my first real expedition down there."

Jack leans in for a closer look. In the photo, she's standing on a boat with a handful of other scientists, all grinning proudly at the camera, pink-cheeked and sunburned, wetsuits tied around their waists.

"Very nice." She looks at him, and he shrugs. "Should have taken sunscreen, though."

"It's just one of those things no one thinks of when you spend half the day underwater," Sam tells him. "We were all pretty fried by the end of the trip."

Charlie looks up at them. "Dad makes me wear sunscreen. He says if I don't, I'll burn up like he burned the hot dogs that one time on the grill."

Sam arches an eyebrow, looking up at Jack. "Really?"

"It was _one time_," Jack insists, setting his hands on Charlie's shoulders. "Besides, we were talking about you here. And your reckless disregard for sun protection."

"Uh-huh." Her eyes are sparkling, but she just waves a hand towards one of the next displays. "Let's move on, shall we, gentlemen?"

* * *

As it turns out, Charlie's essay has earned them sufficient celebrity that they get treated to lunch at the museum cafeteria. Jack squeezes his son's shoulder as they walk towards their table. "Write an essay every day, buddy. I won't have to cook anymore."

He's been wondering if their charming guide is going to go back to work at some point, or even just hand them off to an intern once she's tired of them, but Sam joins them for lunch, patiently answering Charlie's endless questions about boats and swimming and orcas and stingrays and otters and octopi and giant squids and is there _really_ a Loch Ness Monster?

"I don't _think_ there's a Loch Ness Monster," she says. "Most of the famous sightings have been debunked. And it could be something as simple as a shadow on the water. So I'm not convinced."

"But what about aliens?" Jack asks.

"What about them?"

"Maybe they put it there." He grins. "And they just take it home at night."

She smiles at that, an adorable, fond little smile that says _it's not particularly funny, but it's stupid enough that I like it_. "I guess I didn't consider that possibility."

"Well, there you go." Jack gestures with his fork. "That's science, you know."

Charlie looks back and forth between them, his face screwed up in concentration. "Dad, I think Sam's right."

"What?" Jack gasps in mock outrage. "You don't think it's aliens, either?"

"No."

He harumphs. "Well, when the aliens _do_ come here and tell us all about it, I'm going to say 'I told you so.' And you're both going to feel pretty foolish."

Sam raises her eyebrows and looks at Charlie, who just shakes his head and goes back to his fish-shaped macaroni, and Jack doesn't know how to explain the soft warmth in his chest at the sight of his shy, careful young son connecting so easily with this woman.

* * *

Before Jack realizes it, it's two, and they're back at the front desk. The aquarium's open now, and he watches children and families streaming in around them.

Sam bends to shake Charlie's hand as the boy thanks her enthusiastically for _the best day ever_.

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it." She ruffles his hair fondly. "You know, I started just like you."

"Really?"

She nods. "It all starts in science class. And now I'm a marine biologist. Keep studying, and you'll get there."

"I will. I promise."

"Good. Oh! Here." She pulls something out of her pocket. "If you have any questions, or if you're coming back to the aquarium, let me know."

Jack takes the card she hands him. _Samantha Carter, PhD, marine biologist_. Under the aquarium's official logo, she's jotted a cell number in pencil. When he looks up, she's got a sparkle in her eyes, and if he didn't know better – is she _checking him out?_

"So – call you?"

It's a risk, but she gives him a little smile, and he's pretty sure he's not imagining it. "Call me."


	2. Chapter 2

He thinks it might be a little strange to call within twenty-four hours. He doesn't want it to be weird.

So instead of Sunday, on Monday, after Charlie gets home from school, the two of them sit down and Jack hands his son the phone. Charlie carefully dials the number, looking up at Jack as the phone rings.

"Hi, Sam?" There's a pause. "It's Charlie O'Neill." He looks up at Jack, his face brightening. "Yeah. I wanted to say thank you. I had a lot of fun on the tour. You were awesome."

He pauses, listening to whatever she's saying, and his smile widens. "Okay. Oh, here's Dad."

Charlie hands over the phone, and Jack puts it to his ear. "Hi."

"Hey." Her voice is gentle, and he can hear the smile in it, as clearly as if he can see her. "Charlie really is a great kid."

"He meant it. We both had a really great time."

"So did I. You guys were fun."

"Do you normally lead tours?"

She laughs. "No. But I wasn't busy, and then someone showed me his essay, and it was just the cutest thing I'd ever read. And the science was actually correct, which was exciting."

Jack laughs. "He'll be thrilled. He spent hours on that thing."

"It shows." She pauses for a moment. "Was it educational for you, too?"

"Oh, sure. Fish. Big fan." He should maybe ease up on being a smartass, but it didn't seem to bother her in person. "They're delicious."

She groans. "You think you're funny, don't you?"

"Maybe a little." He decides to take his chances. "Do you, uh – if you want to tell me to get stuffed, go ahead, but would you like to get coffee sometime?"

He's holding his breath for the inevitable _no thank you_.

"Actually" – she pauses – "can I make a counter-offer?"

Hmm. Not what he expected, but not a _no._

"Uh – sure?"

"We've got this big fundraising event coming up at the aquarium," she explains, "and I could use a plus one. It's next Friday. But if it's not –"

"Sure. I mean" – was that too eager? – "yeah. I'd like to."

"Great." She sounds soft and a little shy. "Great."

* * *

After he hangs up the phone, Charlie looks at him expectantly. "Are you going on a date with Sam?"

"I think so." It seems to qualify as a date. He's going to have to find his nice shoes. "You okay with that?"

"Yeah." Charlie grins. "She's nice. And maybe she'll let me feed the sea lions again."

* * *

The week passes, and Friday night comes sooner than he was expecting.

Charlie perches on the edge of his father's bed, watching as Jack carefully ties his bowtie. "You look really fancy, Dad."

"It's a fancy shindig, buddy. Gotta fit in." Jack tugs the tie one more time and decides it'll do. "Okay. I think we're good."

"You look like Mittens."

Their next-door neighbor, Mrs. Langford, has a very friendly tuxedo cat.

"That's the idea."

Jack's halfway down the stairs when the doorbell rings, and he opens it to find Charlie's babysitter. "Hi, Cassie."

"Hey, Mr. O'Neill." She leans down to high-five Charlie, who pokes his head out from behind his dad. "Got your Legos ready? We can build space towers tonight."

* * *

Jack grabs his keys and opens the fridge, hoping he can get out of here without anyone noticing -

"What's that, dessert?" Cassie's leaning into the kitchen, watching him curiously.

"No."

He can't explain why, but it feels embarrassing to pull the little box out of the fridge. Like he's back in high school, and he's been caught staring at a girl in homeroom. This is ridiculous.

Cassie, though, is focused. "So what is it?"

He opens it hesitantly to reveal a corsage. Small, simple; a soft ivory rose and a little cluster of Queen Anne's Lace, tied with a silver ribbon.

It's lame, right? It's lame. And old-fashioned and geeky and –

"Oh, Mr. O'Neill." Cassie gapes, looking down at the flowers.

"Is this bad?"

"What? No." She stares at him like he's gone crazy. "This is perfect. She's gonna love it."

"What if it looks bad with her dress?"

"It's white. It'll go with anything." Cassie beams at him. "Honestly. It's perfect."

* * *

Jack walks into the aquarium to find it aglow, soft and gleaming, shadows and light dancing across the walls from the massive tropical tanks all around.

He'd offered to drive her, but Sam had told him she would be there several hours early to help set things up, so he walks in alone. A helpful docent points him towards the main hall, and he passes the elegantly-set tables with sparkling glassware and crystal, tea lights flickering.

She's standing in front of one of the big tanks, watching the vivid, colorful tropical fish swimming by. Her hair is pinned back, and she's wearing a long gown, soft, deep blue, that leaves her shoulders bare and displays the elegant column of her throat.

If she was pretty before, right now, aglow in soft light, she's breathtaking.

She turns, and when she sees him, her eyes light up.

"Sam." He lets out a breath. "Wow."

She blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You look pretty good yourself."

Jack pulls out the little box, hoping Cassie wasn't just being polite and a corsage is closer to the 'sweet' side of old-fashioned than 'hard pass.' "This is for you."

When she opens it, her eyes light up. "Jack – this is beautiful." She pulls out the rose, and after a moment, hands it to him. "Would you do the honors?"

He slips the band over her hand carefully, tracing his fingers gently over the fine bones of her wrist. He shouldn't really be lingering, but she doesn't pull away; her hand is warm and soft in his, and when he meets her gaze, there's shyness there, something girlish and lovely, and oh, jeez, he's a sap.

"I'm glad you like it," he admits. "I asked the babysitter if it was okay."

"What did she say?"

"She told me to stop worrying about it."

"Good."

He can hear patrons walking in, the chatter of the crowd starting to pick up, and Sam takes a deep breath, looping her arm through his. "Okay. Just to warn you: I'm going to have to talk to a lot of people."

"If conversations get boring, I'm here to rescue you." He nods solemnly. "Or pull the fire alarm. Whichever."

* * *

Dinner's fine.

It's actually very good; Jack's just not used to the kind of meal that has multiple courses and requires careful fork selection. He has an eight-year-old, after all.

But Sam beams all evening, even as her gaze sweeps around the tables, looking for anything she needs to fix. The atmosphere is alive and glittering with crystal and china and candles and soft music from the jazz combo in one corner, and Jack had never thought of the aquarium as particularly romantic, but he supposes he could change his mind.

She chats easily with a stream of patrons, nursing the same glass of champagne for most of the evening. Smart, Jack knows. Keeps everyone at ease, but she's staying clear-headed.

* * *

After a few speeches that are actually not nearly as boring as Jack thought they might be, Sam leaves their table to help with the silent auction. Jack sets a hand on her arm. "You're leaving me?"

"Just for a bit."

"But what if I get lost?"

She can't quite hide her smile. "Just stay out of the water, you'll be fine."

So Jack sits patiently, watching Sam and one of the administrators announcing whatever the prizes are – he hasn't looked at any of them, so he's not particularly invested in the results – when someone takes Sam's empty seat beside him. "Jack O'Neill, right?"

He turns to find an affable man: older, bald, a friendly expression. "That's me."

"George Hammond. We spoke on the phone."

"Oh, right." Jack shakes his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"So did your boy enjoy his tour?"

"He loved every minute of it."

George beams. "I'm glad to hear it. He's a bright young man. I'm sorry I couldn't be there myself, but I'm sure Dr. Carter took good care of you."

"She was absolutely great. Charlie loved her." Jack chuckles. "She's got him bound and determined on being a marine biologist someday."

"Excellent," George nods. "When she mentioned you were coming tonight, I figured you must have gotten along well."

"We did." Incredibly well. Wanting-to-ask-her-out-on-the-spot well, although Jack keeps that to himself.

"Well, nice to meet you, Jack." Hammond glances back at another table. "Have to go refill my wife's champagne. But tell Charlie we're glad he enjoyed his day here."

"Will do. Thanks."

* * *

When the evening finally winds down, the last of the tipsy donors straggling out, Sam finally lets out a long breath and sinks onto one of the benches by the entrance.

"You all right?"

"I'm fine." She tries unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. "Just glad it's over and everything went well."

Jack settles beside her, nudging her shoulder gently with his. "You can relax now."

"Thanks for keeping me company." Sam smiles ruefully. "I know I wasn't much of a date, dragging you around to talk to everyone. I really, really appreciate it."

"Hey, no complaints here," Jack shrugs. "Good food, good booze, and my date was the smartest _and_ the prettiest. I'm pretty sure that's the definition of a good evening."

Even in the soft golden light, Jack can see the blush that colors her cheeks. "Thanks."

Behind them, the caterers are clearing away flatware, custodians sweeping the floor, but as tired as she is, she doesn't seem to be anxious to go.

"Do you need help with anything here?" he asks. "I'm not good with fish, but I'm great at fetching and carrying."

She laughs. "Nope, I'm done for tonight. Just have to get my stuff, and I can go."

He stands, offering her a hand. "I can walk you out."

Sam takes his hand, the white rose still at her wrist, and lets him pull her up. "I accept."

* * *

After a brief stop in her office, where Sam switches from her heels to a pair of flats while Jack gapes at the framed diplomas and certificates that line her walls, he insists on carrying her bag out for her. It's the principle of the thing, really.

Outside, in the parking lot, she stops beside her car. "Will you tell Charlie I said hi?"

"Of course."

She takes her bag and tosses it into the passenger's seat, and Jack stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"So if I call you again…" he starts hesitantly.

She bites her lip, a pretty pink blush on her cheeks. "I'll pick up."

"Good."

Oh, he's a goner. And he knows it.

Jack's ready to head for his truck, but Sam puts a hand on his arm and leans up on her toes, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek. The scent of her perfume floats around him, delicate and sweet and spicy, and he has to catch his breath.

"Good night, Jack."

"Good night, Dr. Carter."

She drives off with one last wave, and as Jack digs out his keys and heads down the block for his truck, he can't wipe the smile off his face.

_Fin._


End file.
